Project: H4CK54W
by GlowstickWithAHacksaw
Summary: When the doctor would cut,he endured. But one day he stopped fighting. 3183 Days.1249 Tests. The only reason he didn't will his body to just stop and die was the buzzing of a mission in the back of his head. Then there was that human girl. A fragile creature who cowered at things he could cut in two with a single swipe. He couldn't die yet. He had to get her out first. And he will.
1. Where Do We Build This?

Notes: The best way for you to visualize my OC is to google "human senketsu" and go to images. I honestly did get rather inspired by the jacket the girl in Kill La Kill wore, however i did not know there was a human-ish version. I Visualized my oc way before i came across the fan art of human senketsu, and with a couple of small changes they were almost identical. So yeah, i got inspired by the jacket, however i did not in any way steal the human version of senketsu, as i thought of his design before i knew it existed.

* * *

He made it out, but he didn't make it out the same. He didn't make it out alive, nor safe. He felt dead, he was alive. The only reason he still had fire running through his veins was the girl he shared his cell with. She was so scared and innocent. He couldn't let her suffer a fate like him, buried up his neck in corpses, so he built his walls higher than the sky itself. So high, pain couldn't reach him. So high, despair over what he became was nothing but a little whisper compared to the screaming next hall. But everytime she smiled in this wreched hell of place, something so beautiful in contrast of the gray wall behind her, the walls cracked. And eventually they f-

* * *

His dream came to a halt as a deafening clang echoed in the halls. The appearance he donned was incredibly otherwordly. The skin around his hips and navel was a rather dark gray colour, giving it a look like as if he was wearing shorts, while the rest of the skin on his back and his legs was completely pitch black. However the frontal chest area was a dark red color, in a perfect pattern like a piece of clothing stitched to his body.

The red skin started from the middle of his pecks, and followed the abdominal muscles down to the V leading down his navel and stopping there, while the frontal ribs were only halfway covered in red, and the rest of his entire body was enveloped in black, with a single stripe of red skin around his neck, almost like a choker, with two horizontal lines following the tendons in the front of his neck, before the stripes abruptly turned towards his shoulders where they outlined his neck muscles and shoulders with a rich red outline.

His hair is facing his back, a bright red colour marred his hair till the midle of his skull's back side, where it faded into a smooth dark gray like a shining silk. His psysique was hard to forget to an extent, a height of 7"1, with an incredibly toned body sporting an 8-pack on his abdomen, muscles hard as diamond all over his body. Then came the most dangerous part of his body. His hands. Massive fingers that ended up in claws as pointy as a needle and as big as a small kitchen knife. They looked surprisingly nimble, like the claw could bend this way and that to assist the fingers in their task, as if it was alive enough to change its size, a disturbing sight for something like a claw that is meant to be simple bone.

The figure in the cell didn't move for a few seconds. Then it turned its head, a mechanical, trembling move. The prisoner was slumped against the wall, having no visible eyes to the guard. Even the warden of this horrible torture hall hated coming to him. He was scared. Something about his scent gave it away, and he grinned a deranged smile, more teeth in his mouth than a piano had keys.

The warden was twitching. Good. He remembers what happened last time he used his bare hands to drag him to the lab, that means. He could smell the prosthetic leg from his corner.

He squinted his only eye, the right one, the one the warden couldn't see from his angle, its gaze turning thoughtful as he scooted up a bit on the wall.

Was he evil? He thought about it all the time. Even at the worst and most random times, he thought about it, like now. Was he a monster? It felt wrong. He didn't feel like a monster. He felt like a supercharged generator of hate that was a hair's length from exploding. He felt pity towards the monstrosities in the cells opposite of him. Cause that mangled, writhing pile of flesh used to be a human being once.

But normal, _human beings_ , did not tear off limbs. They didn't break bones like twigs and they didn't tear through flesh like paper with their bare hands. _Like me._

He thought of all this while he stared at the 1 foot wide metal bars of his cell. _Extra security._

The plated shoulders tensing even more, barely noticeable under the juggernaut suit of titanium, the warden called him.

"SCP H-4-C-K-5-4-W."

He lifted his head fully, staring straight ahead even if he knew what came next it was either 'Im taking you to the labs, do not resist for your own good.' maybe, 'Food.' And in rare occasions, he might say 'You are to be transferred to clean your cell. Do not resist.'

He braced himself for the wor- "You are to share your cell with #4596 until further notice, SCP H-4-C-K-5-A-W. Violence is n-"

His brain shut down, his eye widened and his heart stopped functioning for a few seconds till the words fully registered. His head snapped up with a glare harsh enough to make the titanium warden suit start sizzling.

…. What? ...

 _He was gonna fucking slaughter the thing before it even made it past the cell doors._

* * *

 _25 Years prior._

Rayes didn't like this. He did not like this at all.

As soon as he got dragged from the UN to a round table filled to the brim with shady scientists and people that looked more like they were sewn together rather than birthed, he knew he fucked up.

 _Im a fucking idiot._ He always believed himself a leader, someone who would walk into the sizzling bloodbath without a second thought and scream at his soldiers to hurry _the fuck up_. So naturally he accepted the invitation. Leading an underground organization for worldwide protection seemed just his style. Dirty, violent, but only to the bastards who deserved it.

They never told him too many details and he wished he asked for them, mentally hitting himself. Blackwatch wasn't an independent organization no, they were just a less powerfull _section_ of Overwatch, in both numbers and base expanse. He was pretty much a leader of a fucking taskforce almost half the size of his previous leadership numbers. _Organization my ass._ Its not like it would stay this small, but it was still frustrating cause now he would have to be constantly looking for individuals infamous enough to join up. Yet more paperwork.

But hell, the situation did have its positives. Barely any laws existed for Blackwatch, and even less control from the government then a recruit had on him. Commanding a smaller group meant he did not have to assign group leaders who would fuck up or disobey him cause some unlucky fella lost his leg and they wont leave him behind.

It meant they were free to operate as they pleased without drawing massive amounts of attention. Be it blackmail, assassination, bombings, gunfights, torture, rape. The U.N's only rules were to obey the high command when told to. He remembered a tall lanky man, like a walking scarecrow in the meeting saying, _"We do not care how you achieve the goals we set, so long as it does not compromise Overwatch's and the UN's safety."_

But what did that matter when he was ranked, essentially had a giant staple on his work file saying he was worth less that _Jack_? His fists clenched, his leather gloves straining.

How many times did he pull Jack out of a hail of Bastion artillery fire. How many times did they fight together till they ran out of ammunition, till their knives came dull and their knuckles broke. How many damn times did he save Jack's career by making sure he didn't get into some type of fistfight with an official telling him they can't go on rescue missions in the middle of a siege.

His scruffy beard twisted to the side along with his jaw, his teeth getting grinded into dust in his mouth. What a way to thank him. Take him off the fight, leave him to wait till the _entire building process was over, and have him ranked lower then fucking Jacky boy who was already learning the ins and outs of the Overwatch facilities and ordering people around._ Not that it mattered right now. What happened, happened.

His shoulder muscles forced into a relaxed state as he looked around the mess of a construction site. Dust flying everywhere from the heavy machines, covered in a thin layer of dirt and rust, spitting oil like a rabid dog, gigantic drills mounted on top of like some type of award. _Grats, you're fucked till you can quit in 5 years_ , they told him. He didn't choose the site either, it was somewhere in a secluded mountain in Zurich, some German(?) town he had never even heard of. Or state. Hell if he knew, hell if he cared. It was currently in the construction phase of 'only two thousand meters of digging more'. His hand shot up to his head, trying to prevent his cap from flying away. "Why is it so damn windy up here?", he grumbled.

"Hell if I know, but I don't like this location."A buff man with a Russian accent replied, casually slipping next to him, squinting at the scene. His face had facial features sharper then Rayes's damn eyesight, with high cheekbones, big ears and pointy, slanted eyes. He looked like he belonged more in the Italian mafia then a Russian construction company.

Rayes grunted. Maybe he was paranoid, but something about this place and its people creeped him out too. "Glad to see im not the only one."

The buildings looked like they came straight out of a zombie apocalypse movie, the metal doors had claw marks on them or were missing, the wooden ones were missing large chunks of them, like someone was trying to kick them down only for his foot to go through the door, anything and everything metal on the buildings was rusted to the point of looking like dirt, and the curtains were ripped apart and full of holes, barely covering any of the building's charred interior. The worst was the people. It was not uncommon for villagers to sometimes just stand there for hours and watch as still as a statue. _Maybe the waste fucked their brains up_ , he though.

He chuckled dryly, doing a complete 180 turn and pointing at one of the small factories surrounding them accusingly. "Look at that. It looks like the whole thing is about to collapse. And why the hell are there so many pipes in this place? And why are we making our base in a such a shithole anyway?" He scowled, his voice gritty, "Fucking UN."

"I think the reason were building it here is _because_ it's a shit hole. Who would expect Blackwatch's base of operations being in an industrial wasteland with population more laughable than my paycheck?", he answered.

He looked at the man in surprise, eyebrows shot up high, "Wait so the UN _told you_ what you're here to build?"

Jahov shrugged, "They usually do, were basically their pocket company for everything. Why do you think we have such powerfull drills?" the man's brow lowered in irritation, "The company is swimming in UN money.", he explained, pulling out a cigarette from his front pocket.

He turned and casually asked, voice light. "Got any light, Mister Edgelord?".

Rayes pulled out a shotgun with a roll of his eyes. "Give me the cig."

"Wow, threatening me over a cigar, that's low Rayes.", he replied, grinning, trying to lighten the mood. Regardless, he handed it over, thinking he wanted a cig for himself. "Aight here's your payment of one shitty cigarette, light them now.", he said impatiently, pulling out another cigar, drawing his eyes to his pocket.

A gunshot, loud enough to break glass echoed on the abandoned buildings around them.

Jahov started, his hand flying to his pistol on his back pocket, cigarettes flying everywhere, forgotten. He aimed down the sights on his C-9, doing 180s, eyes wide and panicked, before his eyes fell on Rayes. Lighting the cigar with the scorching hot barrel of his shotgun, looking at him trying to refrain his laughter so hard his face turned red, as his shoulders shook in mirth, a shit eating grin on his face.

He stared at him for a second in astonishment. "What kind of fucking nutjob lights a cig with a shotgun?!" And that did it.

Jahov barely managed to grab the cig before Rayes exploded in barely contained laughter, his knees feeling weak. The laughter faded into little snickers, and Rayes straightened up with that shit eating grin still sitting on his face, "That was a nice break from the dullness of this damn ghost town."

The man was still looking at him like was on drugs, but eventually he turned away.

Jahov could hardly give enough of a shit to talk till his cig ran out. So he didn't.

He looked to the site. His workers were looking at them in a mixture of puzzlement and wariness. It made sense he supposed, not every day do you see your employer shoot a cigar then nearly double over in laughter. Guess his cig couldn't stop him from yelling at them in the end.

Face turning deadly, he mustered all his lung power, and took the cig out of his mouth. "GET BACK TO WORK YOU OVERPAYED SLUGS!"

Motion exploded everywhere as the workers snapped out of their stupor and returned to their duties, the mechanical whirring of drills resuming.

 _Hell, I should yell more often, they're working even faster than before,_ he noted with amusement.

Putting his shotgun back into its holster to avoid any accidents, Rayes jerked his chin towards the middle of the construction side, suddenly serious.

"Let's go, Jahov, I want a tour of this place. How far is the construction besides the drilling?"

* * *

A/N:

The nature of this story rather dark and will have an incredible amount of gore, blood, depression, mental illness, general insanity and so on.

However depending on how i decide to take this fiction on from here on out, it will also have a lot of hero development and fluff.

I simply wanted to craft my own story in the overwatch universe, and fear not almost every single overwatch hero will be in this story and will play a rather important part, but none of them will ever be main characters. Just my OC and IA who is inspired by a vocaloid.

I will continue to upload depending on the interest of the story, and considering this is my first story ever i really feel like i need to improve and i'd love some constructive critisism. This fic should be a very long one, might even breach 120k words, even though i just started it i have a lenghty plan for thise one.


	2. A Gentle Death

"Lets go Jahov, I want a tour of this place. How far is the construction besides the drilling?"

After a brief burst of speed to catch up to Rayes, he replied, with a noticeably excited voice. "Well your majesty since you asked: Pretty damn far. Were already 3/5th of the way done with the drills, and were already midway to building the foundation."

Turning his eyes to the cigarette in his hand, he casually flicks it away and continues, "Slow down, you don't even know where the entrance to this damn place is."

 _That_ made Rayes stop, and turn to his companion in irritation. "Then hurry the fuck up, I've been here every day since this shit show started and the most you've told me about the facility was to-" he made a rough gesture with his hands, "Just throw a list of equipment you said the facility would need in my lap and leave."

"Why the sudden irritation Rayes? You were the one laughing a second ago, you on your period or something?" A rough joke, in lieu of making him lighten up like before.

A stern look from Rayes told him that it wouldn't work. "Fine, Jesus Christ you can be uptight as hell sometimes." He pointed out in an annoyed tone, before shoving his hand in one of his jacket's inner pockets, and taking out a large brown file and tossing it to his 'boss' in a brisk manner.

Jerking a hand up to catch it from the top, he dragged a finger across the front, noting the terribly crumpled state the file was in, before flipping the first page open.

"The fuck did you do to this thing, it looks like it got stuck in one of your shitty machines!" He said in an annoyed tone, squinting at the first page to get a better look at the tiny, bent letters.

Throwing his hands up in an exaggerated gesture, Jahov pointed an accusing finger towards the row of plastic chairs and tables hastily assembled for lunch breaks, before his fed up voice came out. "You try to preserve a paper file in good condition while crawling into machines for maintenance and carrying piles of scorching hot metal around, while you sit and watch like a little queen from a fucking chair!"

Gritting his teeth, Rayes leaned his body forward in an aggressive manner. "Oh do you perhaps mean DOING YOUR FUCKING JOB?" He yelled at Jahov's stunned face, before continuing on his charade, "Just hand over the files to me next time for fucks sake, the higher ups don't send this shit twice!", he fumed.

"Oh." Javoh mumbled, "Sorry." He had to cringe at how pathetic he sounded.

Rayes spared him an eye roll, before turning his eyes back to the file's first page. "What in the blue flying fuck is all this stuff anyway?" He questioned in an accusing tone and a sharp look. "Blackwatch isn't a damn research facility, the fuck are we going to need a whole floor of labs for?"

Jahov replied, placatingly. "Look, the UN gave us the layout plans." He gestured to Rayes, "Besides, weren't you in some super soldier program or something? Heard it caused a bit of controversy. Maybe they want to continue that shit for…. convenience reasons? Away from the semi-public eye?"

Rayes's mind raced. That was not an excuse to make a whole floor assigned as a lab. There was something UN was not telling him. Maybe they would research things that weren't legal to research. _Or maybe they wanted to test on humans._ He could practically feel the Nanites inside him whirling awake from the alert their host showed, a prickling feeling spreading out from his chest.

Maybe it wasn't that big a deal but he couldn't help but think of the way the OWL organization used theirs before they took em down.

More people dead from neglect than the actual experiments. _A little kid eaten alive by maggots. Eugh._ _I don't want a repeat of that shit._

"I don't like this lab thing one bit. Give me the equipment list for the 'research sector'." Rayes commanded in a low and cautious voice, as if paranoid that someone would pop out from under a dirt pile and shoot him, or something equally ridiculous.

"I did. Last pages of this file you're holding." Javoh replied in a nonchalant tone, as if talking to a bratty child.

Giving a grunt of acknowledgement Rayes quickly flipped to the last 2 pages and started mumbling the equipment. "Hardlight Fibre Fuser 9900W, REVIVAL Brand Painkillers PH3.4, I.V Fluids, hospital shit, more hospital shit, Secu-" His breath stuttered, "Se- No wait this isn't right."

Looking at him in the eye was a long list of items with the SCP tag. _In the research department_.

His throat felt dry and his heart constricted painfully in his chest.

Eyes uncharacteristically blank and posture frozen, he turned to Jahov again. "You are NOT making this lab." He voiced, dry and with an air of finality.

Hissing in frustration, he turned and replied, "Look Rayes. You may control what we individually do here as you're the pseudo employer, but UN has us on a leash made of barb wire. " While making frantic hand gestures.

"I don't care what you say or do, this building is going to get built the way UN said, not the way you do." He continued, jabbing a finger at Rayes, before pointing at him with both his hands. "Besides the hell do _you_ care, they're just gonna grab a few rats and shove them in weird chemicals. What's your deal, did you suddenly turn into an animal rights activist or something?"

"Did you even bother looking at the organization which we are buying half the equipment from you moron?" he asked exasperated.

Jahov was getting sick of the conversation at this point, and replied with an air of finality, "Your job, not mine." _Maybe i should have just fucking stayed at the site helping my workers instead of going to my 'boss' for a cig break_.

"Your job not mine", he replied, and he can't help but grow even more irritated.

He had nothing else to do, but wasting time simply wasn't him. A lot of time being wasted means a lot of time spent being useless. Like Jahov was doing now, just staring down the hole as if it was gonna swallow him whole . An unevenly opened hole in the ground, seemingly so bottomless it looked more like a void that led to a black hole at the bottom.

The mechanic whirs and shouts of the workers and their equipment bounced off from one wall to other, and by the time the sounds reached the top they were so distorted he couldn't understand a single word, an unintelligent grumble and groan of noise reached his ears and pierced his brain.

 _Might need the painkillers if this fucking sound doesn't let up._ He noted. However, besides the distorted sounds of the tunnel, something else caught his attention. He expected a sideways dig as an entrance, not a pit that was dug straight down. Not that it really mattered, but its was quite note-worthy, most likely a platform that would slide down to the base was the design they were going for. Practical but risky in case of complications.

The tunnel was roughly 50 feet wide that cut off the sounds of the workers outside the wall of dirt piles, and it was concealed on all sides by a row of little hills, giving it a volcano-ish appearance, with a big metal cage hanging on the right side, connected at 6 points with thick carbon fiber wires attached to a pulley to create a rough elevator system.

"Alright get us down." He informed him, heading over to the console.

While heading over, noting the various unmarked buttons on the console, and keeping one hand tucked into his green jacket, he utilized his other hand to gesture Jahov to catch up. "I don't know how to use your garbage, come and set this up."

"This _garbage_ is our only way to get down, so don't move around in this thing. You're heavy enough as it is, I don't want to die cause you wanted to look down." He replied, and with a burst of speed, caught up and immediately began working on the console, and punched in a combination of buttons. "What, the best construction company in the UN can't even build a half decent fucking elevator?" he jested.

Jahov ignored him. "Alright I called it up, it will take like 5 minutes to get up here." He explained.

Leaning against the giant pulley system, Rayes kept his eyes silently trained towards the pit.

* * *

I was in the same cell I've been in since the start, a rusty metallic scent permeated the thick atmosphere, a scent that has grown like a weed in my brain, something I cant ever forget.

The hall was dimly lit by a single ray of light that escaped from the open door, illuminating the first few steps into the hall, revealing an endless row of various types of holding cells, easily six hundred meters long. Heavy pipes protruded from the walls between the cells slithering up like a rusty snake and intertwined at the ceiling, where they would disappear into a specific part of the ceiling like a funnel.

The first few cells were hidden by a silver iron door each, with a single small window on the middle, a window that once made me yearn for freedom. A yearning that grew stronger as hope weakened after every visit to The Doctor, a constant thrum and pulse in my veins that urged me to smash my way out.

I had quickly learned the rules of this place. The first was to not fight and resist. The punishment was your next surgery with no anesthesia while you would scream and plead and twist like a worm caught by an angry crow. That way they ensured that you would be too weak and spent from screaming to attempt to fight them or escape.

The second rule was to never interact with the one you held your cell with. An attempt to stop the disturbed people of this place from killing eachother in times of dense population. I never had any problem with that rule in the long run however.

I just had to kill them after the guard left, then leave the cleaners to gather the guts off the wall. They were usually the average person. Might have had a wife or a family. A girl that might just be about to get her first apartment. But I didn't care about that. No one ever returned to their previous life once here. I was doing them a favor.

I knew what happened to everyone who came here. Everyone normal like that blond teenage girl. She was so scared, so fragile looking, and yet she timidly smiled at him when he would sit and listen to her worries and force a little empathetic smile on his face. But i had to kill her. It was best to die as yourself, i assured myself.

Not some wailing creature with too many limbs.

He didn't have the heart to just cut her in half like he usually did to his 'visitors'. Instead he waited till she fell asleep, mere hours before her first visit to The Doctor, and gently wrapped his claws around her neck. Felt her gentle pulse against his claw-tip. His chest tightened painfully at the sound of her deep breath suddenly cut off by a tearing sound. Her spine broke so easily, like breaking a tiny twig in half.

A shuddering breath echoed through the small space of the cell as he assured himself that yes. This was the best outcome in such a situation, he told himself as he stared at the blood splattered on the wall and the blood pooling at his feet. Cause it wasn't pain that drove a human insane. It was change. And she wouldn't stay gentle and scared. She would change.

They'd get changed again, and again and again and eventually lose it, kill themselves or attack anything in sight. Cause that's what happens when you feel like you're wearing someone else's skin... Because that's what usually happened to them. They might die of shock when their body rejected the toxins if they were lucky.

* * *

However sometimes he caught himself doubting his choices. Maybe there was some way for him to alleviate the pain and shock from the toxins. Perhaps he could have saved that girl. Was her name Lineu? Hope? He didn't know.

He never knew, for he tried his best to forget rather than remember during his time in here. The only memory he wanted to hold from this place was her. The way she lightened up the rickety cell covered in his claw marks and suspicious red stains by just observing the damp surroundings.

* * *

For the first time in his short life, he felt himself choke up. His chest felt like it was about to burst and his heart was so tight it could barely pump blood to his now numb body. A constant buzz drilled into his brain as his one, yellow eye leaked into a strange orange hue.

He gently took her cold body in his hands, and did what little he could. He straightened her bloody hoodie on her blonde hair, wiped the blood off her face. And stood cross legged behind her, if only to pretend for a single moment, that she was still curled up to the wall, sleeping. And prayed to a god that didn't exist, that morning never came.

Then morning came. The janitor checked his cell first from all the others, despite the fact he was on the farthest end of the hallway. The man had learned that when he was assigned a cellmate, he would have to gather the body parts right before the next experiment.

It was common for the janitor to arrive at his cell to a body torn apart and slashed like ribbons, as if it went through a meatgrinder set to maximum speed, blood splattered on the walls like thick red paint. But this time he stood confused at the cell door. There was blood on the wall as per usual.

Only it wasn't a usual case. The worker observed the creature in the cell, its pitch black muscles as frozen still as ever. However there was no ripped apart body. No guts flung to the hallway from the elimination. The girl that arrived two days ago looked like she was sleeping peacefully, a calm look on her face and curled up like a child, even though he could see the paleness of her skin and the blood on her clothes, the nasty wound on the back of her neck.

And its stance indicated something inperceptible to the man. It was usually sitting in the back right wall, knees to its chest and one deadly glare silently following him as he cleaned the cell, daring him to come close enough so that the Warden protecting him wouldn't have time to save him.

Now? It was sitting cross legged behind the girl's body, one blood soaked hand sitting lightly on her shoulder, as if to comfort her. It disturbed him more than the goriest kills the Saw, as the others called him, had done.

Cause there was a chance this being felt attachment to that girl. It was clear in the way the tense shoulders now hung down, defeated, the utterly painless and swift death he gave to the poor girl, opposed to the butchery of his previous ones.

There was a chance he wasn't dealing with a monster all this time and that disturbed him more as he thought about the horrible shrieks it emitted during its surgeries. _And it always fought. No matter how many times it was skinned or gutted alive while strapped to a chair by chains, it never stopped fighting. What if it wasn't blood lust? What if it has a motive or belief behind it?_ A question came to his head and he blurted it out before he thought about it.

"What happened?" The creature twitched. The hand on the girls shoulders fell, and it slowly dragged its claws against the metal floor, sparks flying everywhere, a shrill cry of protest from the iron deafening all other sounds around them. It was a clear message.

 _Shut your mouth and get on with it._

He gulped. Opened his mouth, but the warden shoved himself forward, the 7 foot tall mech armor giving him just the right amount of power needed to pin the creature down if needed.

"Get in the corner, SCP- H-4-C-K. Don't attack unless you wish to be swiftly disposed of."

It didn't respond for a solid half minute, before movement made his move his eyes back up, to see the creature picking up the girl, like a fragile doll that would fall apart if he didn't hold her correctly, and slowly started moving towards them.

Proffesionals or not, armor suit or not, both he and the warden stiffened in alarm. Unusual behavior always made even the most hardened veteran in this facility be a little more wary, and it wasn't the usual whimpering patient that was being unusual, but a creature that was strong enough to be classed as an SCP.

The cell door was closed, which was just comforting enough for him to focus back on _it_ , his eyebrows creaking down in intrigued confusion, as it lumbered forward.

He expected something extremely dangerous or tricky to happen. Perhaps the body would explode as a distraction and the creature would smash through the bars and escape, or something equally insane.

Which is why his eyes nearly popped out of his skull when it simply bent down, and gently let the body down, its massive hand holding the back of her head for a lingering second, before it let go.

His shocked brown eyes darted up to its face, uncomfortably close through the bars, and his usually dead eye bored into his own two, with a descriptive look that carried a message left unsaid. _Treat the body with respect. Take her and leave._

It slunk back into its usual corner. And he found himself following the unsaid wish.

* * *

A/N: This is dedicated to my two new followers, **Keean Trinity, and SvenTheElephant!** Hope you enjoy, I worked extra hard on this one.


	3. Chapter 3

**I am so very sorry for the lack of uploads to my wonderfull little audience. I've had to write a 10k word essay for my school project from scratch, i have exams coming up and im also helping create video for youtube. I barely have any time to really sit and play overwatch, much less write my favorite project. However the essay should be done after monday, and i'll rush out a new chapter for you guys after that asap. I have a lot of plans and a lot of plot to cover and i'll never fully stop uploading for this story as long as people read and enjoy it.**

 **Also, thank you to the anonymous guest who reviewed twice (make an account you silly i cant reply _), and i promise you 4 idiots (Keean Trinity, Sven, aslaa, and the awesomest5) i will upload asap.**

 **I will remove this AN later on for the legit chapter, so this wont cluster the chapters. Unless if you dont get a notification for that.**


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